


Bravery in the Face of Adversity

by Diary



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ambiguity, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Pass, Cancer, Family, Friendship/Love, Gay Male Character, Jon Snow is a Stark, Late Night Conversations, Mail Order Brides, Modern Westeros, Multi, Off-screen Relationship(s), POV Multiple, Romance, Women Being Awesome, Ygritte is Tormund Giantsbane's Daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 21:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7480314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hello, Jon. I’m sorry to wake you. My father ordered a mail-order bride.” Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bravery in the Face of Adversity

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Game of Thrones.

Jon wakes up to desperate pounding on his flat door.

Stumbling out of bed, he makes his way over and opens it to find Sam and a young woman holding a baby. “Sam?”

“Hello, Jon. I’m sorry to wake you. My father ordered a mail-order bride.”

With anyone else, Jon would try to employ a little more tact, but knowing exactly how Sam felt about his father, he simply points out, “You father is dead.”

“Yes, and he never told any of us what he’d done, and Gillian, Gilly,” Sam nods to the woman, “wasn’t told about his death.”

“What- Come in, both of you. I need some coffee. Is the baby-” He pauses.

In a distinctly Northern accent, she says, “He’s already eaten."

They go to the kitchen, and Gilly grabs a wash towel, sniffs it, and makes a makeshift cot for the baby on the table.

While Jon starts the coffee, Sam digs out one of the speciality fruit salads Ygritte left and begins to make the tea.

Once everyone is settled, Jon says, “Alright, now, from the beginning.”

Sam reaches over and squeezes Gilly’s hand. “Go on.”

She takes a breath. “I’m Gillian Craster. Gilly. We’re,” she looks at the baby, “from Milkwater. Judge Tarly and I were supposed to get married after he retired. I have letters,” she digs envelopes out of her dress and pushes them over, “and we talked on- through the computer, we saw each other.”

At her helpless look, Sam supplies, “Probably Skype or Facetime, but the important thing is, they did visually, orally, and verbally communicate.”

Jon nods. “As delicately as possible, Miss Craster-”

“Please, don’t call me that,” she quietly interjects. “It’s my father’s name. I don’t want it for me or my baby.”

“Okay. Gilly, why did you agree to marry a man almost two continents away? And what about your baby? His father? Did Randyll Tarly know about him?”

“Jon-”

Gilly touches Sam’s arm. “It’s okay. My father isn’t a good man. My baby’s father- he isn’t, either. All I had there is my sisters. Even if I could find a job and hide from my father, it wouldn’t have been enough, not with needing to take care of him. Judge Tarly wanted a wife who’d stay home, and he promised he’d raise my baby like his own. He’d go to school. College, maybe, and he’d always have everything he needed. It’s- it’s too soon to tell, but my baby might have medical problems when he’s older.”

“What is the baby’s name?”

She shakes her head. “In Milkwater, too many babies die. Families don’t name the girls until they’re one and boys until they’re two.”

Jon remembers Ygritte once wrote an article about people falsely attributing the high infant morality rates of the Far North on the superstitions of people there when the true cause was many countries didn’t have access to the same vaccines and medicines the Seven Kingdoms did. She mentioned wanting to visit Milkwater and Whitetree someday, and he wonders if she will, now.

“You might want to reconsider waiting that long here,” he advises. “Okay, well, I’ll be happy to call my aunt. She’s a child’s advocate, but she has friends in Immigration.”

Sam winces. “The thing is, you see, is, uh-”

“When Judge Tarly didn’t call me at our usual time and no letters came, I knew something must be wrong. I- I stole from my father to be able to come here. And I- I was supposed to meet Judge Tarly in Eastwatch, and he was going to bring me here.”

“You snuck in, didn’t you,” Jon realises. “You’re here illegally. And worst, you’re likely a wanted fugitive.”

She grabs Sam’s hand. “Sam.”

Softly, Sam pleads, “Jon.”

“You know I’ll try to help, but this one hell of a situation she’s gotten herself, her baby, and you in.”

Giving him an apologetic look, Sam nods. “I’ve tried contacting Dickon, but they’re still being very hush-hush about whatever he’s doing.”

Jon almost wishes Ygritte were here. Then, he realises he might end up calling her before this is all over.

“Gilly.” He looks directly at her. “This is your choice: Unless I have to, I’m not going to arrest you. But, and Sam will tell you the same thing, you’re best bet for avoiding detection is in a police station. I can put you and your baby in a solitary cell, and my aunt can talk to you there. No one pays any attention to who goes in a police station unless they’re disruptive, and people meet with lawyers all the time there.”

She looks at Sam, and he nods. “It would be for the best, Gilly.”

“Promise me they won’t take my baby and you’ll visit us.”

“I promise,” Sam assures her.

…

An hour after Gilly and the baby are settled in a cell with Sam’s laptop, Jon’s aunt shows up.

“Aunt Cat,” he greets. He gives her Gilly's letters. “Thank you for coming so soon.”

“Of course. How old are she and the baby?”

“I don’t know.”

Giving him a look, she shakes her head.

He takes her to the cell.

“Jon, before I meet her- Bran’s birthday is only thirteen days away, and it’d mean the world to him if you’d come. If Ygritte is-”

“I’ll be there,” he interrupts. “I know you’ve heard it before, but Ygritte and I truly done. She moved out last week, took most of her stuff, and for all I know, she's in Milkwater right now herself.”

“Oh. I know how much you and she loved one another. Despite how your father and I have always felt about her-”

“I need to get back to work, soon.” Opening the door, he takes her inside. “Gilly, this is my Aunt Catelyn Stark. Aunt Cat, this is Gilly and her baby. If you two would prefer, interrogation room three is available. Excuse me.”

…

“I’m going to try my best to help you, but I need complete honesty,” Catelyn says. “I promise, whatever you tell me is privileged information. I won’t reveal any of it without your express permission.”

Gilly nods. “Will you talk to Sam, too?”

“Most likely,” Catelyn answers. “Now, how old are you and your son?”

“I’m twenty-two, and the baby was born almost three months ago. On the ninth.”

“What role did his biological father play in your lives?”

Gilly shakes her head. “He hurt me, and I never told. He’ll never say the baby is his. My father said I had to give the baby up. After he, the baby, started kicking, I started trying to find a husband, but the men in Milkwater- I cleaned the town library, and on one of the computers, I found Judge Tarly. The letters had to be written in blue, or I couldn’t read them. I’m even worse at numbers. But I’d make a good wife.”

Cat looks down to see the letters are indeed written in blue. Gilly’s handwriting is messy and filled with spelling and grammatical errors, and Judge Tarly’s are dispassionate and full of instructions on how she’ll be expected to behave and what her duties will be once they wed.

She knows Sam would never say it, and thankfully, Jon apparently hasn’t, but if Gilly was harbouring hope Judge Tarly would become more affectionate afterwards, she would have been solely disappointed. Moreover, he wouldn’t have been the father Gilly clearly wants for her son.

Judge Tarly was absolutely devoted to his wife, had a close relationship with his son, Dickon, and was a fair judge.

Otherwise, he was a stern, humourless man who had outdated views on both women and men who didn’t fit his standards of masculinity. Since Sam was twelve and until he left for college, he practically lived in Jon’s room. Sam’s sister, Tarla, moved in with a boyfriend when she was seventeen and was almost kicked out of her own mother’s funeral until both Sam and Dickon stood up to their father.

“Above all, you’re a very brave woman, Gilly. I wish certain things had gone differently for you. Do you understand that, at most, we’ll be able to get you and your baby a visa?”

“But Sam could marry me!” Gilly frowns. “Or Dickon, he doesn’t have a wife, either. I could give them sons of their own, half-brothers and sisters for mine.”

Cat shakes her head and gently says, “Gilly. No. Dickon serves in the King’s SEALs Guard. If the gods bring him home safely, he’ll likely eventually want a wife and possibly children, but not only is there a chance he won’t come home, he isn’t going to want to marry someone he’s only recently met and can’t even get to know fully for some time. To take on a child that has no relation of any kind to him, especially one he won’t get to see grow until later. And Sam- Sam’s job as a librarian is barely enough for him to support himself on. He can’t support a wife and young baby.”

For a long moment, Gilly is silent, but Cat sees the way her eyes change.

“Then, please, help me stay and keep my baby. I’ll find a job and work as much as I need to.”

“I’ll call a colleague of mine,” Cat promises. “Her name is Brienne Tarth, and she helps women in difficult circumstances, especially immigrants. In fact, she helped my youngest daughter, Arya, a few years ago.”

“How many children do you have?”

“My husband and I had five together, but over the years, we’ve taken in more. Jon is Ned, my husband’s, nephew, but he was always been a father more than an uncle. In fact, Ned was the sheriff here for eighteen years before his death.”

She tries not to think of the past. When Jon’s mother died, Catelyn had given recently given birth to Robb and suffered post-partum depression. Once he was older, she was more focused on the others than him, but things were pleasant enough. Then, Ygritte came around, and his relationship with everyone but Arya and Rickon suffered.

Getting out her phone, she shows Gilly a family picture. “This is Robb, he’s studying to be a lawyer, and his wife, Talisa, is a nurse. They have a twins, a boy and girl, Eddie and Raina. This is Theon, Robb’s best friend, he’s working on his doctorate. Sansa and Arya, Sansa is an event planner, married to Margaery Tyrell, a media consultant, they have Lora- though, she’s started going by Lori recently. Arya, she’s travelling the world. Bran is going to graduate next year, and Rickon loves horses.”

“Before him, I was always scared of having babies,” Gilly blurts out. “I’m still scared.”

“I think all mothers are,” Catelyn says. “It’s all about what you do with that fear. Sometimes, you should listen to it. Other times, it’s necessary to be brave. The truth is, sometimes, I’m just as lost as to how to deal with my youngest as I was the very first time I gave birth.”

Gilly smiles. “Thank you.”

Nodding, Catelyn smiles back. “You truly are brave, Gilly.”

…

“I think Brienne will be able to help her. I certainly hope so.”

Jon nods. “Thank you.”

She hesitates. “I won’t pry. When it comes to you and Ygritte, if you don’t mind-”

“I couldn’t handle it,” Jon says. “Whatever that says about me- Cervical cancer. I couldn’t handle it.”

Wordlessly, Catelyn reaches over, pulls him into a hug, and seeing the picture of Ned hung in the station’s hall, sighs and closes her eyes.

…

Sam sits down next to Gilly on the cell’s cot and smiles down at the baby. “Hello, little one. How are you and your mummy doing?”

“They scanned my fingertips and swapped my mouth with cotton,” Gilly says.

“It’s in case they need to process you,” he explains. “I’m sorry. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

“No one seems to like your father. Not even you.”

“Dickon likes him,” he says. “My mother did, too. Gilly- for your sake and the baby’s, I wish my father was still here, and I’ve never wished death on another person, but I’m not sure I can be very diplomatic in talking about him. He was cruel to me since I was little, and later on, he was cruel to my sister. If he were here, I’d hope he’d do better with your son than he did with me.”

She kisses his cheek. “I don’t want him dead, but if my father were gone, I might not have had to leave. I’ll always worry about my sisters, but he,” she gently bounces the baby, “always has to come first.”

“Speaking of that,” Sam says, “there’s a free clinic in Osterville. Why don’t we go there? They give free neonatal care, and we could probably get you vaccinated, too.”

“I thought I needed to stay here for right now.”

“You do, but being gone for a few hours probably won’t harm anything.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

…

Gilly stares at the poster in the waiting room. “I can’t read,” she mutters.

“You can. I can’t be sure, but I think you’re mildly dyslexic. Here-” He takes a small notebook out of his pocket and a blue pen. Copying the poster, he hands it to her.

“Hel- helping women and children since 3193.”

“Good,” he praises.

She gives a slight smile. “What’s ‘dyslexic’?”

“It’s- some people have trouble reading, and there are different reasons why. Dyslexia is one of the most common. It’s different for different people, but for some, the words swirl unless they’re a certain colour.”

“Will my baby have it?”

“It’s too soon to tell. He’s at a slightly higher risk, but it’s not something to worry too much over. There are many ways to help students with learning difficulties nowadays. For right now, if you want, I’ll bring you some audiobooks. It’s never too early to get kids interested in books.”

“Audiobook?”

He explains.

“They help other people be magical, too,” she declares in wonder.

At Sam’s look, she shifts. “When I was little, I couldn’t read at all, but there were these people who could look at moving squiggles on paper, only, they didn’t move, and these people could learn all sorts of things without ever moving or talking to another person, and I thought they must have been wizards and witches.”

“I’ve always wanted to be a wizard,” Sam tells her.

She studies him. “I’m not sure you aren’t. That’s why you became a librarian, isn’t it? So all sorts of knowledge would always be close to you.”

“Partly,” he answers. “When I was younger, though, it wasn’t exactly about the knowledge. I liked to imagine all these different places. And the characters- some of them I could see myself in, some of them, they inspired me, and some of them, they just made me feel less lonely. Then, some of them were so terrible or were good but went through horrible things, and I could tell myself, ‘However bad things are, I know they’ll never be that bad.’”

Gilly nods. “In my head, I used to pretend all the time. But it was never very detailed. I’d just be somewhere else, safe and happy, but I didn’t know what safe and happy was. What it could be.”

“Hopefully,” Sam softly tells her, “you’ll be able to figure that out, soon.”

…

“Detective Sergeant Stark?”

Looking over, Jon sees Dickon Tarly has arrived.

Standing, Jon salutes, “Lieutenant Junior Tarly,” before remembering uniformed and non-uniformed aren’t supposed to salute one another.

However, Dickon salutes, too. “I tried the library, first, but they told me Sam was taking a personal day.”

“Yeah, about your brother-”

As if on cue, Sam and Gilly walk in. The baby, Jon sees, has on new clothes, and Sam is carrying a bag with _Pierre’s Baby Shoppe_ embossed on it along with some plastic bags containing women’s clothing. In addition, Gilly has a prepaid mobile clipped to her hip and headphones going from it to her ears.

While Sam sets the bags down and takes the baby so Gilly can take the headphones off, Jon says, “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say you’ve downloaded your entire personal library of audiobooks onto that phone.”

“No,” Sam protests, “just a few that I thought she or the baby might enjoy and that she might find useful.” He sees Dickon. “Oh, hello! Dickon, this was our father’s fiancée, Gilly, and her baby. Gilly, this is my younger brother, Dickon.”

They shake hands, and Dickon gives a polite, “Ma’am."

“It’s nice to meet you,” Gilly says. “Your father talked about you a lot.”

“Sorry to be rude, but I want to get home soon,” Jon says. “Why don’t we move all of you and this stuff to an interrogation room?”

…

“I’m surprised Father didn’t tell you,” Sam comments.

“We didn’t talk much after I got my promotion,” Dickon says. “Too busy.”

“Right, of course.”

“How are things at the library?”

“I still love my job."

Dickon looks at the Gilly and the baby. “Um, would someone marrying her be the best way to help?”

“Unfortunately, that isn’t much of an option. I can’t afford to help take care of a baby right now, and-”

Sighing, Dickon catches Gilly's eyes with his own. “If you wanted, I’d marry you. I could send enough for you and the baby, but I’d need you to understand that- I’m sure you’re a wonderful woman, if both my father and Sam like you so much, but I’m never going to fall in love with you. It might be best we get divorced in a few years.”

“Dickon, you can’t just marry someone-”

“Father would want it this way."

“I’d be very grateful,” Gilly quietly speaks up. “I know, this isn’t an easy thing to offer. I’m not trying- All I want is to keep my baby safe and give him a good home.” Looking over, she adds, “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“There’s nothing to apologise for. If Dickon- Dickon, I just want you to be sure. As much as I want to help Gilly, I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret.”

“I won’t,” Dickon says.

“We can tell Aunt Cat in the morning, then,” Sam says.

…

After they leave the station, Sam and Dickon get burgers, crisps, and sodas and sit down near a pond in park.

Dickon looks up at the moon and down at the water. “It’s beautiful here."

Sam glances over.

“I never would have noticed before,” Dickon continues. “There’s this man in my platoon, Lieutenant Grade Payton O’Quinn, who’d love it here. Father hated Payton. Said he was a bad influence. That’s part of the real reason we stopped talking. But- about two years ago, we were on a mission in Braavos. I was new to the platoon, but I got along well with everyone. Payton, he can disarm a bomb blindfolded, and I guess I expected him to be a certain way.”

“He loved riding the canals there and believes in astrology. I don’t just mean he reads the horoscope, I mean, he actually tries to follow what it says when he can. We always argue about movies. You know I love action movies, but he likes satire, even though I think only people like you and him could possibly understand it. He sure can’t explain it very well.”

“But,” Dickon hesitates, “I was thinking about taking an honourable discharge instead of renewing my contract and maybe finding a house with him. He loves water. Maybe somewhere near here. He’s good with kids, too.”

“He sounds like a good friend,” Sam replies, and Dickon sighs. “I’m sorry Father didn’t like him.”

“In the end, Mother was the only one who Father still liked."

“Just because he didn’t like one of your mates, you never stopped being his pride and joy, Dickon,” Sam assures him. “Gilly and I are both grateful, but it’s not too late to change your mind. You’re still so young. Move in with your mate. Enjoy life out of the guard.”

“You’re a year and a half older than me.”

“Yes, but I’ve been told I have an old soul,” Sam says with a grin.

Laughing, Dickon shakes his head. Finishing his burger, he says, “Never mind what Father would want. Helping her is the right thing to do.”

…

At the entrance to the archery range, Catelyn gives her license to the receptionist and is led outside to the bleachers. Standing in them, she watches Ygritte hit the moving targets each time.

When Ygritte’s done, she turns, stiffens, and walks over. “Surprised to see you here, Mrs Stark. If you haven’t heard, Jon and I are finished. If I’m being accused of something, my dad’s my alibi.”

“Jon told me why you broke up,” Catelyn softly tells her. “Whatever our past disagreements, I want you to know I’m truly sorry. If you want them, you have my prayers.”

Ygritte nods. “Thank you.”

She starts to pack up.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, please, let me know. I imagine it’s easy, sometimes, for you and Jon to forget how young you both truly are, but I have been through this with Ned, Ygritte. I could-”

Ygritte looks up so fast Catelyn jumps.

Swearing, Ygritte shakes her head. “What do you think happened? Did he tell you that he couldn’t handle it and broke up with me? That lying, too-bloody noble- It’s only half-true.”

Sighing, she sits down.

Catelyn sits beside her.

“When I told him, he was all ready to fight, just like before. He was going to be there every step of the way, put himself through what he went through with his dad. Then, I told him I wasn’t going to seek treatment. Asked him to help me make the most of the time I had. And me not fighting, that’s what he couldn’t handle.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Ygritte mutters. “Oh.”

“Could I ask why? What does Tormund think of this?”

“The doctors aren’t sure how far along it is. I’ve never said it to you or him, and I wish I had, but I do have a certain respect for you and your husband. Sheriff Stark truly cared about people. ‘Never choose what’s easy over what’s right.’ Easy to say, but the fact he honestly lived like that- Part of all that is why I fell in love with Jon.”

“So, I’m not saying this to bait or hurt you, but your husband didn’t die himself. Everything important was taken from him. Weak and broken, a great man like Sheriff Stark, that’s how he ended. I’m not going to end like that. As much as possible, it’s going to be on my terms. I’m not going to put myself and Jon and my dad and everyone I care about through that, especially not Jon again.”

Ygritte quickly wipes her eyes. “Dad isn’t happy, but he respects my right to make this decision. We’re going to travel. When it’s done, he’s going to burn my body in the true north, and let my ashes travel where they’ll go under the bright, unpolluted stars.”

Catelyn reaches over and squeezes her hand. “You’re so young,” she sadly notes. “I can’t imagine having to make such plans for my own children. But yes, you do have the right to make this decision.”

Ygritte squeezes her hand before standing up.

…

At the police station, Catelyn waves when the door opens.

Hugging her, Petyr Baelish says, “Cat, as much as I live for your phone calls, I have the sneaking suspicion you and I are soon going to be standing across a judge from one another."

Kissing his cheek, she replies, “I sincerely hope not. There are some- peculiarities to this case, but I can’t see why the CP would want to involve itself.”

“Which is why you called a crown prosecutor for an unofficial meeting.”

“Only because, without certain details, those peculiarities might give a distorted picture.”

“So, naturally, you want to show me the undistorted picture.”

“You needn’t sound so suspicious.”

“I’m sorry, have we known each other since childhood? Have we fought thirteen battles against one another in court?”

Shaking her head, she leads him in the interrogation room containing Gilly, the fussy baby, Sam, Dickon, and Jon.

“Hold it,” he says. “Where’s little Miss Tabloid Blogger waving her tablet menacingly at me and making sharp remarks-”

“Hopefully, Ygritte doesn’t need to be here,” Jon interrupts. “But I can always call her, if she does.”

Shaking his head, Petyr puts his laptop case on the table. “I swear, long after her fiery hair turns grey, that delinquent will still-”

Hurrying over, Catelyn grabs Petyr’s arm and clears her throat. When he looks over, she gives a brief headshake and hurries over to Jon's side.

“Okay,” he says. “Door closed? Good. Now, what is the full picture Counsellor Stark believes I need to see?”

…

After the meeting, Catelyn takes the baby while Gilly, Sam, and Dickon stay behind.

“If you wanted, you and the baby could stay with me for a while,” Sam says. “Save up. Of course, my flat is even tinier than Jon’s, but we could make it work.”

Opening a can of lemonade, Dickon adds, “As soon as our marriage is processed, we can set up a joint account. I’ll transfer the money from my trust fund in it, and I’ll send you my pay every month. I won’t need money until after I’m discharged. And if something does happen to me, you’ll still get benefits.”

“I didn’t come here for the money,” Gilly quietly says.

“We know,” Sam assures her. Catching her eye, he smiles. “You came to give your baby a good life. Money, though, is something we need to discuss.”

She looks at Dickon. “You don’t have anyone, do you? That might- I didn’t think to ask.”

Dickon shakes his head. “Sam, are there any jam tarts here? I’d really like one.”

“Of course,” Sam cheerfully says. “I’ll go see if I can find some. Gilly?”

“Nothing for me, thank you.”

Once Sam is gone, Dickon goes to check the adjourning room behind the two-way mirror, comes back in, and rubs his head. “Gilly, there’s something you need to know before you decide if you want to marry me. I’m asking you not to tell my brother, but if you do, you do. I’ll handle however he takes it.”

“You have someone.”

Nodding, he moves closer. “I met them in Braavos. Only….”

…

In the park, a shadow falls over Ygritte.

She looks up. “Out of everyone I thought might call, I didn’t imagine you’d ever be one of them.”

Smiling, Petyr sits down. “You’re not done.”

She stares.

“I had to see for myself,” he says. “Catelyn told me about your cancer. Did you know, I’ve been in love with her since I was eight years old? I’ve always wondered if you’ve somehow missed that or if, given your own relationship with the young Jon Stark, you’ve decided not to push that one particular button.”

“But I have. We dated a bit when we were teenagers, but it never amounted to anything. I wanted to marry her, and she likely didn’t even consider me a proper boyfriend. Then, Ned Stark’s brother came along. They were engaged, but he died. For reasons I’ve never been privy to, she and Ned married. Maybe she loved him, maybe she or her family just had some funny ideas. It was a different time back then.”

Frowning, Ygritte asks, “Why are you telling me this?”

Leaning back, he continues, “For years, I’ve watched her look at him the way I look at her. I’ve seen her children, who, in a different life, could have been mine. I’ve gone against her in court cases and given it my absolute all. I was there when Sheriff Eddard Stark battled cancer, too.”

“So, here’s how it’s going to go: You’re going to face pain and suffering and weakness you’ll hate yourself for. Jon Stark and your father will suffer, too, almost as bad as you. You’re going to be terrified. If you don’t make it, your last thoughts will be guilt and self-fury: What if I hadn’t wasted time being stubborn and stupid? What if I’d started treatment right away?’ Still, though, knowing all this, you will. Because, in answer to your question: You aren’t done.”

“I’d know better than you,” she retorts.

“Yes, you would,” he agrees. “Cat might not love me, but she does trust and respect me. You don’t. What have you written in your tiny blog? Implications about me being corrupt, complaints about how I, in your opinion, mishandled cases, insults about my choice in ties?”

“Face it, Miss Giantsbane, for all your abrasive insults and earlier delinquency, you care about justice just as deeply as Ned and Jon and Cat do. And I’ve waited for a long time for someone like you to come around. Make no mistake, I might end up destroying you someday-”

She scoffs.

“I might,” he calmly insists. “But for right now, I’m just going to leave you with this thought: Say you’re right about me. Putting aside the fact someone like me already has easy access to all the Starks, including the children and your Jon, are you really going to let someone like me continue to go unchallenged in this world when you could possibly do something? Not that I’m admitting anything, mind you. Anyone who believed a juvenile delinquent over a respected crown prosecutor would be an utter fool.”

“Right, you’ve been waiting for a twenty-four-year-old blogger to be your nemesis,” she sarcastically replies.

“Don’t flatter yourself." He stands. “I might end up destroying you someday, but until then, it’s nice having someone around who has a somewhat clear picture of me and gives me something of a challenge. I’d advise you not to tell anyone what we just talked about, but actually, I’d be interested to see that: Poor little girl dying of cancer, innocent, tolerant man who insists his words must have been misinterpreted.”

He tosses something to her. “Here’s your mobile’s battery back. Forgot to mention: You aren’t the only one who learned how to pickpocket young. Sorry if you had plans to record anything about our little meeting.”

Walking away, he ducks both times she throws her shoes at him.

…

Tormund opens the door and immediately pulls Jon into a hug.

Jon pats his back.

“Take care of her, you hear,” Tormund orders. “And don’t you dare use this as an excuse to not satisfy her the way-”

To Jon’s immense relief, Ygritte appears. “Dad, he won’t. Come in, Jon Snow.”

Smiling despite the pain, he complies. “You haven’t called me that in a long time. You haven’t gotten into trouble so soon, have you?”

“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she snaps. “You need to carry my organ back into your flat. Do you still have stuff for my butter tea?”

“You’re- moving back in?”

“If you don’t want me to, just say so, but when I throw up at three in the morning, you don’t want Dad coming to drag you here, do you? Because he will.”

Tormund gives a sharp nod.

Realisation hits him, and he feels light-headed. “You’re going to fight.” He pulls her into a hug.

Moving away slightly, she says, “I’m not done.”

Then, moving back, she kisses him.

…

A week after Gilly and her baby arrived, she and Dickon are married in the police station.

After the ceremony, Gilly and Catelyn hug.

“You made a beautiful bride,” Catelyn says.

“Thank you. And thank you for all you’ve done to help.”

“It was my pleasure. You’ve got my mobile and email address, don’t you?”  

Gilly nods.

“Please, if there’s anything else you need, call me," Catelyn says. "It doesn’t matter what time.”

“I will.”

When Sam comes over to talk to Gilly, Catelyn goes over to Petyr. “What is going on with you and Ygritte? Ever since she and Jon got back together, she seems to have even more of a vendetta against you than she ever did Ned and me.”

He shrugs, raises his cider to the glaring woman in question, and responds, “Who knows? When she’s better, we might have to worry about it, but for now, the most important thing is that she gets better. If her crusade over my perceived wrongdoings motivate her and propel her strength, I’m just glad I could be of some help.”

Smiling, she links their arms together and presses closer against him. “Thank you, Petyr, for being there. I know when we were younger- but I appreciate your undemanding friendship.”

“Of course,” he says. “The past is done, Cat. Did I tell you I’ve been seeing someone? It’s very causal right now, but who knows?”

“No, I would have remembered that conversation. Who is she? Should I expect you and her over for dinner, soon?”

…

When Jon and Ygritte get home, she announces, “I’m not sure Dickon is straight or any orientation involving him liking women.”

Starting to make her butter tea, Jon chuckles. “Whatever works for them, I guess.”

“She and Sam will be together soon enough.”

“Possibly,” he admits.

She takes a breath. “We’ve both always wanted children someday. You know that I might not be able to.”

Sitting down, he takes her hand and touches her face. “Hey. Don’t tell me you’re having doubts about doing this. Please. If we can’t have children, that’s something we’ll deal with later. I love you, Ygritte. I’m yours, and you’re mine, remember?”

“I want you to find someone to talk to,” she tells him. “Part of why I fell in love with you was because you believe strongly in things and aren’t afraid to act, not because you try to be stoic.” Gently, she adds, “I held you when you cried for your dad. You never let him or the others know how much you suffered. How much you still suffer sometimes from him being gone. I don’t want you hiding how this hurts you from me. I don’t want you to have no one when I can’t be strong enough.”

“I’ll find a therapist,” he promises. Making up his mind, he says, “I have something to show you.”

After retrieving a jewellry box from his lockbox, he comes back and tells her, “Two days before you told me about your cancer, I asked my Uncle Benjen if I could use his credit card. A loan, you might say.”

Handing her the receipt, he opens the jewellery box, and she gasps.

“This isn’t because you’re sick. I planned to ask that weekend. Now- maybe it’s not a good idea to get engaged, and maybe it is, but Ygritte, when you get better-”

She grabs and kisses him. “Of course, I’ll marry you after I get better.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” she affirms.

Laughing, he kisses her back.

“But I’m wearing the necklace, now,” she continues. “Now until my last day.”

Helping her put it on, he says, “May that be many, many, many years from now.”

“Yes. I love you, Jon Snow.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
